Because of Him
by calicophoenix
Summary: Quick one shot of my witch character Jocelyn Harper and how she came to be infected. Constructive critique is welcome.


Hello all! Just a one shot of my Left 4 Dead witch character Jocelyn Harper featuring my smoker character Luke Roper(I might do a one shot of him next). It describes a little of her life before the infection and how she came to be infected. Now, Jocelyn and Luke are part of a more humor based story(where the infected can talk and socialize), but I wanted to expand more on her story for the fun of it. Yes this is sad and horrifying what happens to her and all but hey, it's a zombie apocalypse and she's part of it now. Literally.

**Because of Him.**

Jocelyn Harper lived a simple life. She grew up with a wonderful family, had a few close friends and even got married after she graduated high school. A few years after being married she and Don argued constantly before they agreed to live apart for a while until things settled down. Upset with the knowledge that her marriage was going down the drain, she sought an outlet to take her mind off of it. Jocelyn discovered she had a talent for expression through writing and spent her days writing her stories and her poems, publishing them in magazines and living off her earnings. Things were beginning to look up for her again. When she turned twenty nine she and Don got a divorce and shortly after she became the landlady for Gentle Creek apartments for a few years. It was a quiet place even with the community college just across the street. Many students lived at Gentle Creek because it was cheap and close to their destination.

That was where Jocelyn met _him_. He was 25 years old and stood at six feet seven inches and had a penchant for smoking. Luke Roper was his name. He lived just next to her and was always chatting with her when he got the chance. Luke also flirted shamelessly with her. Now and then Jocelyn flirted right back but reminded herself that she was eleven years his senior. Since she and Don divorced she hadn't really felt like having fun, and over the years she had lost touch with her friends. Regardless, he still hung around with her, going as far as to invite her for Thanksgiving dinner since he didn't have the money to go home to his family. Jocelyn found herself feeling happy for the first time in six years since her divorce. Before she knew it, she started looking forward to seeing Luke again. As her world started coming together again, the world outside of it was beginning to crumble and fall apart...

Talk of the Green Flu had reached their tiny community of Somersdale. People were going crazy on the news and many had been shot while the camera was still rolling. She was shocked and turned off the TV. Things will be okay, she told herself. There was no way the Green Flu would spread so easily. This is just like the Bird Flu or H1N1. And besides, they'd find a cure for those who were already sick, wouldn't they? As she climbed into bed that night, Jocelyn refused to listen to the little voice in her head that asked her, "_If that's true then why are you shaking_?"

She woke up the next day and stepped outside to pick up the newspaper, a small smile gracing her lips. Her normal routine hadn't been disturbed, and it went on as it usually did for the next five weeks. Unfortunately that peace did not last. One summer morning she woke up to birds singing their usual tune and the cats were scratching at the back door for something to eat. Everything was calm as it always was; Luke had just taken off for his morning classes while a few students trudged to their apartments to sleep off a long night shift. Jocelyn chuckled and went back into her apartment to prepare some breakfast. She left out some cat food on the back stoop for the strays that wandered in and out of the complex. After a few hours of checking who had paid their rent and who had not she heard someone banging on her front door. She stood and went to the door, peering through the peep hole. Jocelyn stepped back and remained silent. One of the gardeners stood out there, his face slashed on one side as one milky eye hung from the socket. Jocelyn peeked through the blinds in her kitchen and watched the chaos unfold.

Shaking herself from her stupor, she locked all the doors and windows and turned on the TV to channel five. There were urgent instructions from CEDA to keep away from infected individuals, to keep any entrances locked and remain indoors until the threat is removed. They were simple, easy to follow rules. However, she didn't trust that things would be so easy, so she grabbed the aluminum baseball bat from under her bed and put on her running shoes. An hour passed, then two, and then three and she had nearly fallen asleep when she heard the frantic pounding on her door. Luke was crying her name from the other side and so she opened the door, letting him before locking the door and barricading it.

"Luke, where have you been? I was worried," Jocelyn asked him as he slumped against the wall.

"It's pure hell out there, Joss…" he gasped, leaning his head back. He had a few scrapes on the right side of his face and it looked as though the skin was swelling into tiny lumps in some places.

"Let me get you a washcloth," she offered, heading towards the kitchen. She returned moments later and gently dabbed at the cuts with the cool wash cloth.

"We need to get the fuck out of here… We need to leave town, the state, probably the country," Luke stated as he got to his feet.

"Luke, we can't leave. CEDA gave us instructions to remain indoors until they gave us the all clear…"

"_Fuck_ CEDA!" he screamed at her before coughing harshly, "CEDA isn't doing a damn thing! They're _not_ going to help us. Joss, we need to leave while we have a chance. You don't have to worry, I'll protect you."

Jocelyn looked around at the home she had lived in for the past seven years and felt her eyes well with tears before nodding. She picked up her bat and asked him, "Where's your truck?"

"Half on the sidewalk and half in the parking space," Luke answered before coughing again. Jocelyn only shook her head and chuckled before peeking out the blinds. Many people were running around and she noted some seemed to act like rabid animals, crawling on all fours after others. They agreed to make a break for his truck on the count of three; the pair tore out of the apartment and climbed into the Chevy. Luke put the keys in the ignition and the engine roared to life. He made it out of the parking lot and took the exit to the highway. Jocelyn noticed he was coughing again and he was starting to look a little green; the bumps on the side of his face seemed to get bigger and even spread down along his neck.

"Luke… Are you feeling okay…?" Jocelyn asked him. He couldn't stop his coughing fit long enough to answer her but he nodded all the same.

"I'll be fine," he finally replied in a hoarse voice. Suddenly the truck veered off the road as Luke fainted. Jocelyn screamed and crossed her arms in front of her as the truck hit an oak tree. The air bags engaged, saving both of their lives. Jocelyn climbed out of the truck and limped over to the driver's side, forcing the door open and unbuckling Luke. He groaned and let out a strained cough and for a moment Jocelyn felt relief. He turned to her then and snarled making her step back.

"Luke? Oh shit… You're one of them…" she murmured as he stumbled to his feet. His eyes had become yellow, diseased. She ran from him down the road and towards a building, one she hoped she could lock him out from. Luke was still fast, despite his coughing, despite all the years he had spent smoking. Fearful tears clouded her vision as his loping footsteps came quicker and closer. Her heart thundered in her chest, she was going to make… She was going to make it!

A great weight fell on her then and she shrieked as Luke, or the shell of him, landed on her. He clawed at her back, drawing blood and she tried to crawl out from under him before he leaned down and bit her hard on the side of her neck. The memory of the man she cared for dashed and self-preservation struck her like an eighteen-wheeler. Jocelyn clawed out his right eye, causing him to release his hold on her as he howled in pain. She slipped away and ran into the building, barricading it as she fell on her side. She felt ill, her stomach churning as she lay shivering on the cracked tile. Time seemed to stop for her as she fell asleep…

Jocelyn awoke hours later to a burning sensation in her hands. She looked down and yelped in shock and panic. Her fingers seemed longer and they were turning red and sharp at the tips. She was turning… Outside she heard the rasping coughs of Luke and heard the steel door rattling as he weakly beat against it. He was still there? Persistent bastard. Her stomach clenched and she headed towards the restroom vomiting into one of the toilets. Tears ran down her face as she let out a panicked sob seeing red stain the toilet bowl. Her hands throbbed and she clenched them, whimpering from the pain and the knowledge that soon she'd be like Luke.

Damn him! He said he'd protect her! She bit her bottom lip and stood on shaky legs as she made her way towards one of the mirrors. Jocelyn gasped and put a hand to her head. Her hair was turning white at the roots and her eyes…they were going from their calm ocean blue to a deep red. No…no, no, no... The woman whimpered again as a sudden bout of pain ripped through her. The veins on her hands stood out, throbbing, pulsing with every wave of agony and pump of her heart. She couldn't stop crying, couldn't stop the tears from coming as she slumped in a corner against the wall. Jocelyn watched in terror as her fingers grew an extra inch, the tips of them already sharp as daggers.

Through her tears Jocelyn came to the decision to end it right there. Better to die a human rather than spend her final days as a monster. She had a hard time concentrating on the deed as she placed the red claws to her left wrist and pressed before she broke out into sobs once again. No! She would do this… The claws finally bit into her skin, drawing out a liquid river of red. Her claws grew longer and the blood wasn't coming out fast enough. Damn it, damn it, damn him…! She clawed desperately but it seemed like her skin, which had turned gray, was thicker, stronger somehow, so she had to apply more pressure just to puncture it. It wasn't enough; already she was seeing streaks of white hair dangling in front of her. And her previous wounds looked like they were already healing…

Jocelyn kept at it though, through the screaming and crying. She even started clawing at her legs through her skirt, shredding the fabric just below her thighs. Too late…it was too late. And she knew it was too late but she couldn't accept it. She held her head in her hands and wept uncontrollably, the frenzied panic and infection finally taking over her as she shuddered succumbing to her fate.

Jocelyn Harper was dead.


End file.
